Denali Highway Road Trip 2022, The Third Day, Part Two

 The Third Day, Part Two

The Twilight Zone Continues

The Denali Highway is remote.   A hundred and thirty-five miles traverse a mountain valley between Paxson on the Richardson highway to the east and Cantwell  on the Parks highway to the west, with only a few businesses and private cabins along the way.

Twenty-two miles are paved.   The rest was chip-sealed a couple years ago and thank goodness for that!  I've been over this road when it was hell on wheels, so to speak, including everything above those wheels.   Wash-boarded, pot-holed, muddy and/or dusty or both at the same time.   Rental agencies prohibit their vehicles on the  Denali Highway.

Parts of the road are built on eskers, which are long, winding ridges of rocks, gravel, and sand pushed up by retreating glaciers.  The tundra is dotted with kettle lakes, also formed when a chunk of ice from a retreating glaciers was left behind.  It collected sediment and melts.

There are spectacular views all around and we're heading to one of the prettiest--the Tangle Lakes area.   At this moment, however, we are in what I think is a boring couple miles of willow scrub punctuated with tall, narrow spruce.   We rarely stop along here as we seldom see anything worth a photo.

I don't know why, but "this is a good place for raptors" comes to mind.  The tall spruce are good for lookout points, but the willows are thick, making it easy for prey to hide.   

"WHAT'S  THAT!" cries Leilani from the driver's seat.   She stops the truck and backs up.   "All I could see was a white back."

A little more backwards, a little more and a light-colored bird comes into view, perched at the top of a spruce.   It's far too small for a northern goshawk and the wrong color and size for a northern harrier, both of which are seen along this road.

Binoculars and long lenses identify the bird as a northern shrike.   It's the first time I've seen one.   That makes it a lifer for me.

Northern shrike.   Note the hook at the tip of the bill.

Shrikes are often called "butcher birds" because they prey on rodents and small birds and sometimes stash their kills on thorns or barbed wire for later consumption.

And once again, my old nemesis:  did I foretell that or did I cause it?

***

We drive on, quite near one of our favorite areas, the Tangle Lakes.  Before the road into the BLM campground, I suggest we turn into what Leilani and I call Doug's Circle.

A little back history:    Doug Lloyd, a fine wildlife photographer and mentor to many, came to the Denali highway for many season to photograph, often in the company of his birding buddies.   One year, he invited his friend Leilani to accompany them, and she in turn invited me.

It was the first time I met Doug, though we had often traded comments on the Facebook page Birds of Alaska that Doug had administered.  It was a wonderful trip.  The six of us, including Ron Tappana, Jamin Taylor, and Michael Clemens, took our meals together at Tangle River Inn, but we birded separately in pairs.  

 

Doug was battling cancer and he and Rob birded by truck.   Jamin and Michael strode off across the tundra to find special species.  Jamin was going to show us a pond not far off the road one evening.  We waited at the appointed place and time, and as I considered the route he described (thinking that we would attempt it alone), a grizzly appeared in the very spot where we would have to walk.   We canceled that option.

It was that first year that Leilani told me about the BLM pullout that Doug recommended.  It's essentially a rest area along the Tangle River, with two nice outhouses, a boat launch and places to park.

Fishing and boating.

And warblers.   It has warblers.

It also has white-crowned sparrows that greeted us with joyful songs.

And then, lo and behold, an alder flycatcher.

With that coup, we were off to the campground to see what we could see.

NOTE:   Shortly after this year's trip, Doug succumbed to his illness.   I had already started thinking of this annual trip in terms of  Doug, and henceforth it will be the Doug Memorial trip in  my  mind.

***

What surprises me this year is how many scaup we are seeing because, where I live, scaup are the last to arrive.

This pair was resting in a small pond with floes of ice near them.